Those of you who’ve been following this blog for ages know that there are times when I relish becoming Cinderella, and times when I feel about as much like donning that ball gown as I do following a pack of lemmings off a nearby cliff. I’m never quite sure which it’s going to be at the beginning of the night and sometimes it changes as the night goes on. In fact, sometimes it can change on a dime…or, on a reaction.
Despite the fact that last night was the Venetian Ball (which is normally one of my favourite nights of the cruise), I just wasn’t…feeling right. My faithful gold corset didn’t seem to want to lace right, my curls didn’t sit the way I want them, everything felt vaguely…off. As Shadow said to me later I had an idea in my head of what I thought I should look like and I couldn’t make myself fit into it…but I knew I at least looked passable, and struggling with it was just going to be silly, so I clasped my triple necklace at my throat, donned my hematite bracelets on both wrists and set out to face the music (literally).
I had a half hour to kill before my shift started – and an hour before the ball actually began – so I found myself in the midship lounge where the band was playing. When in doubt, gravitate towards the band. I got myself a glass of wine, and tried not to feel self-conscious as I stood at the edge of the dance floor looking for a free chair. Which is when I started to notice the eyes on me weren’t just from the guests.
Now keep in mind this is Amras’ band, these are probably my closest friends on the ship, they know me. They really kind of think of me as ‘one of the boys’ so to speak. I mean yes, logically they know I’m a girl, but I’m just the girl who’s always there, the one who has a button on her lapel that reads ‘I’m with the band’, who gets their ice water and carries their music. I’m a groupie combined with a roadie. Always have been. So getting a triple take reaction from all of them when I walk into a room is something very rare; but that’s what happened. Lark – the singer – she just stared at me, at first she didn’t even recognize me, then promptly pantomimed what can only be described as ‘is it just me or did it suddenly get hot in here?’. As for my brother himself, once he picked his jaw up off the floor (which made me grin, because no one is as difficult to shock as a relative) he just got this look on his face that clearly said
Hell yeah, that’s my sister…
Of course, my corset is only made for limited wear. I have singer’s ribs, and they don’t appreciate being caged in steel for more than a few hours, normally I can wear it for the length of the ball (which is about an hour and a half) and then I have to escape it. But last night the band was playing to an empty room after the ball was finished, and the musician in me just can’t leave my boys to play to an empty hall. I’m only one person, I can only make so much noise, but at least I’m someone. The long and the short of it is that by the time the last set finished I’d been wearing that lovely torture device for nearly six hours – about four hours past its normal ‘comfortable’ time – my ribs were sobbing. As I told Amras when I was helping him sling his music back to his cabin
You’re lucky I made it through that last set big brother; this thing isn’t made for extended wear
And you’ve been in it since what…6 o’clock?
Yus..
Well…you look absolutely slamming, you know that right?
Thanks.
Vanity…it’s my favourite sin….